A Night of Thunder and Butterflies
by Sandylee007
Summary: One night in Budapest, Clint Barton manages to seduce Natasha Romanoff. A butterfly helps.            CLINTASHA ONESHOT, IGNORES 'AGE OF ULTRON'


A/N: SOOOO… There's been a CRAZY heatwave for hours. I blame that on messing with my head and making me type this. (giggles)

I love ClintxLaura, but I also love ClintxNatasha and the chemistry between them so much that I can't resist an occasional temptation. (grins)

DISCLAIMER: OH, please…! Like I'd EVER have enough money to own anything but a DVD collection and figurines with Renner on them…

WARNINGS: Some language… And this'll get a bit steamy (hence the T-rating), so kids (and Steve), this ain't for your eyes. Shameless Clintasha… kinkiness.

TAKES PLACE before the first 'Avengers' movie (mostly) and IGNORES CERTAIN PARTS OF 'AoU' (we know which parts, surely).

Weeeell, since stalling is unkind… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

MUSIC USED FOR INSPIRATION: 'Andante, Andante' and 'Fernando' from ABBA (throw a wild guess which movie I watched a few days ago, LOL)

* * *

 ** _A Night of Thunder and Butterflies_**

* * *

It was a very warm, humid evening in Budapest. The kind that promised thunder but the relief wasn't there yet. The weather made Natasha even more restless than the slowly fading adrenaline-rush of a recently completed, rough mission. She couldn't wait to get back home, into a cold shower and her own bed. But first she needed to find her partner, who once again wasn't answering his phone.

Fortunately, by then they'd had over thirty missions together and she knew Clint well enough to know where to start looking. She headed to the forest-area almost right outside their motel. After walking for no more than three minutes she saw him. And froze.

Clint was target-practicing, which she really should've known to expect. Heat had glued the man's white shirt to his skin, revealing far more of his frame than certain parts of her body would've been ready to handle. She berated herself over her own stupidity. _You're not twelve anymore…! How many people have you seduced for information? You're smarter than this!_

Almost as stubborn as Clint, she shifted her gaze. And discovered that a butterfly had landed on the archer's head and spread its beautiful, blue, black and white wings. For some ridiculous reason the sight had her so mesmerized that she didn't manage to speak up until Clint twitched, clearly sensing someone watching. "Don't move. You have a…" Just then he turned and the butterfly rose, the rays of a setting sun caressing both the animal and the man it left behind. Watching it made her feel… something she hadn't experienced ever before. She shivered and gulped when her gaze strayed from his chest-area to his eyes. What the hell was happening to her…? Maybe this was what a heatstroke was felt like. "Never mind", she told both him and herself. Then, desperate to distract herself, she forced her attention from her friend to his self-made target board. Ten bull's eyes. Of course. "Overachiever", she accused in an amused, breathy tone.

Clint grinned. And this time the butterflies were inside her stomach. He nodded towards his bow just as she was mentally berating herself. "Wanna try?"

"We're supposed to head home", she pointed out, not exactly eager to approach when she was feeling so… out of control.

Clint shrugged. "Coulson already knows that I'm always late. Just blame me. Besides… I'm not entering a small, confined space with you when you're that tense and wired up." His smirk was a challenge. "Or are you worried about failing?"

How was Natasha supposed to back down from that one? She rolled her eyes while approaching. "You're such a brat sometimes, Barton." And she was a foolish teenage girl or in need of medical attention. Possibly both.

Using all her stubbornness, she ignored the tingle that went through her like electricity when their fingers brushed as he surrendered his treasured weapon. Trusted her with his most priced possession. (She'd never seen him let even Phil touch it.) Mimicking the motions she'd seen him do a million times, she took an arrow as well and readied it, then took aim. The arrow departed with a soft sigh that gave her new shivers. And, much to her dismay, landed to the edge of the target board.

"Good effort. But it shows that you need some teaching." Clint moved into her personal space slowly, giving her every chance to protest. She lost whatever little fighting chance she might've had when the scent of his shampoo filled her whole mind. Then his large and calloused, experienced hands were already guiding hers. " _That's_ how you're supposed to hold her. She's not a firearm. You need to approach her softly and with respect."

"'Her'?" Natasha inquired, amused and more than a little out of breath.

She felt Clint's grin even without looking. "Now move your hands a little more… Much better." At least she wasn't the only one out of breath. But he had the advantage of standing behind her and he was taller. His warm breath on the back of her neck made her shudder. "Good. I think you're ready. Tighten the string… Good, good… And release."

The arrow joined Clint's by the center mark. He seemed very satisfied. "You… are an exceptionally good student."

And right there Natasha was _done_. This, whatever it was… The tension had been building up inside her and between them for a while, now. Just like the thunderstorm that refused to come. She was _done_ waiting.

Clint emitted a small, husky yelp of surprise when she spun around abruptly, grabbed his hips demandingly and placed her lips against his. It took about two seconds before he responded. His lips were surprisingly soft and their taste almost kept her from noticing how his hands slipped under her shirt. He was smooth and subtle, like a very skilled thief. Those soft moves made her grab him tighter as every single one of her cells responded. Then her hands were moving, too. Tested waters, explored areas she'd dreamt of more often than she would've ever admitted.

Natasha's head spun wildly. That was probably why she had no idea how they ended up to the forest floor. Several things were digging into the skin of her back but she barely noticed. The hands and lips exploring her claimed all her attention. Only moonlight and the nature around them witnessed as she gave herself to Clint, trusted him in a way she'd never trusted anyone else before. (In a way she'd never trust anyone else.)

Somewhere in the distance thunder grumbled, drowning some of the noises they made in the heat of the moment.

Afterwards they were both panting heavily when their eyes met. Quite quickly Clint's gaze shifted. "Don't move", he breathed out. "You have a butterfly in your hair."

Natasha smiled, and had a nasty feeling that it was the dopey, sated kind. "Maybe it's a sign of good luck." Her eyebrow rose when she noticed the way he was looking at her. No one had ever looked at her like that, with such… whatever it was. (How was she supposed to recognize love when she'd never seen it?) "What are you looking at Barton?" she inquired, her tone light and almost playful.

Clint shrugged, eyes still on hers. Was he… blushing? (She knew she was flushed.) "Just the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Natasha could only stare. Far too aware of the fact that he most likely felt the intensifying thumping of her heart. Then she snorted. "That… was the cheesiest thing I've ever heard." Still it brought an army of butterflies to life in the pit of her stomach.

Clint grinned, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. And arched a teasing eyebrow. "What are you going to do to punish me?"

As a result of his dare they were still on the forest floor when the sky finally opened and rain came falling down, accompanied by roaring thunder. They looked at each other, gasping and their pupils blown wide. And burst into laughter, feeling lighter than they ever had before. Ready to fly like the butterflies they kept seeing.

Once they'd calmed down, both soaking wet and very satisfied, Natasha did her best to glare at him. She had a feeling that it was half-hearted at best. "If you ever tell anyone about this, no one will find your body."

Clint smirked and winked. "Don't worry. I'm the perfect gentleman."

* * *

In the end they made it to Coulson and the jet waiting for them three hours later. Phil was suitably unimpressed. "And they arrive…! What took you two so long?"

Clint shrugged. Natasha was the one who replied. "Technical difficulties."

Phil stared. Then scoffed. "I don't even want to know what that means." The man turned, heading to the aircraft. "Let's get going. The weather's horrible and I'm done with Budapest."

Clint and Natasha shared a brief, subtle look behind his back, both smirking.

"Oh, and Romanoff? Take those leaves off your hair."

* * *

Shortly after Natasha and Clint took identical tattoos. Tiny butterflies, hidden where no one else would see. Eternal reminders of a night of magic and butterflies. Clint stayed true to his word and was the gentleman who didn't share. Even when he nearly slipped.

"This is just like Budapest all over again."

"You and I remember Budapest very differently."

* * *

End

* * *

A/N: So, yeah. It's WAY too warm outside and a I went and typed this. (chuckles) Now THAT, is what I'd call a spark.

SOOO… Was that ANY good, at all? PLEASE, do let me know! I LOVE hearing from you.

And THANK YOU, so much, for reading! Who knows, maybe I'll see you guys again later. Perhaps with something a little less steamy than this. (chuckles)

Take care!


End file.
